Strange Condition
by Edgechick816
Summary: "Stories and cigarettes ruined lives of lesser girls." Victoria finds herself in an unexpected situation


Title: Strange Condition

Author: Rachel

Pairing; Victoria/Jericho, Jeff/Molly, Edge/Lita

Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to the WWE and themselves

Distribution: Ask please

Summary: "Stories and cigarettes ruined lives of lesser girls." Victoria finds herself in an unexpected situation

Notes: Where to begin? This story is ANCIENT, it was started at least 5 years (the dates are fuzzy as I've had at least 2 different computer since I first start) and is set almost 10 years ago. I wrote over 10K and never posted a word of it, at least partly because I didn't want to write this kind of story if I couldn't be interesting. So why bother at all? Because 10 years ago, I used to love to write and somewhere along the way, that died because I let someone kill it for me. This is my attempt at rediscovery, at finishing what I started. I'm not expecting a ton of readership for this and honestly, that's okay. My main reason for posting is so I'm not writing entirely in a bubble. So this is my attempt to find love again, and all its flows. Any passersby are welcome to bear witness and enjoy. :)

 _Read me the letter, baby_

 _Do not leave out the words_

 _Stories and cigarettes ruined lives of lesser girls._

 _And I want you to know, cause I want you to know..._

Chris woke up to the sound of... something. He wasn't quite sure what had disrupted his nap, but something had. He blinked one or twice, staring up at the living room ceiling for a moment, then looking down to check on his companion. A mass of raven hair occupied his chest, he reached down to stroke it softly as he felt her gentle, steady breathing against him, a sure sign she was still asleep. He brushed her hair away from her face, admiring her for a moment, before caressing her cheek.

She was the spitting image of her mother and ever bit as beautiful.

This was their time. Lazy afternoons on his days off. It gave Victoria some time to herself, to shop or take a bath or to just relax. Today, she and Jeff were out doing God knows what, the only promise Jeff had made is that she wouldn't come back with any damaged cause by a needle. He knew that still left her hair in serious jeopardy, but given that his wife already had bright red highlights, he figured it was lost cause anyway.

But all this gave him time with his princess. They would run around, screaming and playing in a way Mommy probably would have never allowed. They played with her dolls, making tales of the wonder princess Raggedy Ann, and how she would saved from her evil tower of pillows by the handsome and noble prince Bert from Sesame Street. He chuckled to himself; If someone had told him 20 years ago that his best moments in life were going to be spent playing with dolls, he probably would have punched them.

Then they would have a snack of the highest culinary cuisine, usually fashioned of some combination of peanut butter and raisins cut into shapes. And she would regale him with all the exciting details of her life. This week, she had scraped her knee, which he promptly kissed and made all better, and she had new toy from Jeff, a multicolored bear which she named Jeff because it looked like him.

Finally, they would put in some movie that they had both seen a thousand times, always her choice (this week was Sherk) and somewhere about two-thirds through, they'd fall asleep, usually with her on top him. The absolute best thing about it was just watching her sleep. She was utterly perfect and he'd remember the day she was brought into this world, and holding her the first time and saying her name. He looked into her eyes and everything just... changed. He realized almost all once how precious this tiny little girl was, and how he was luckier than anything to be there and to have her. Anyone who didn't want this be damned.

He heard a knock on the front door, suddenly realizing that was the noise that had woken him in the first place. He looked over at the door and back down at his sleeping princess and thought to ignore what every saleperson or girl scout was interrupting his afternoon. He couldn't think of anyone else who would be knocking. Jeff was with Vicky and they would have just come in, Edge was in town, but he would have called first.

When the person knocked a third and louder, time, he figured he should just answer the damned door, buy something or run off whoever was there before they woke his baby. He looked down again, faced with the predicament of how exactly to *get* to the door. Debating for a moment, he settled on a method. Holding her to chest, he slowly put his feet on the floor and sat up carefully, so as not to wake the two year-old in his arms. From there, he stood up, checking once more to make sure she was still asleep and then laid her down on the couch. He picked up her Big Bird blanket off the floor and covered her with it. With final kiss to the cheek, he headed for the door, even more irritated at the person ruining his afternoon nap.

From all the people he expected to find at his door, hell, from all the people * _ever_ * expected to see, this was the last on his list. His jaw set and looked the man at his door with such disdain that it may have actually burned. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The man on the steps looked shocked, and a little bit a afraid. "I could ask you the same question."

"No," Jericho said firmly, "You couldn't. You're not allowed to, you lost the right years ago. Now tell me what you're doing knock on the door to _*my*_ house?"

The man on the steps swallowed hard. He hadn't remembered Chris being this imposing, or this angry, but the last time he had really seen him at all, which was years before he left, they had been friends. This particular glare was one directed at mutual enemies. That ship had certainly sailed. But he what wanted didn't have anything to do with him, hopefully that would help some.

"I'm looking for Victoria," he answered honestly, and if anything Jericho got angrier.

"My wife," he said, pausing sightly to empathize on the word, which he said with pride, protectiveness and most importantly, danger, "is not here. Now, is there something I could help you with?"

Chris and Victoria were married? When the hell did that happened? The last time he saw Jericho, him and all of his friends, including Jeff wouldn't even talk to her and now they were married? He hadn't known, in fact, he still didn't know much of anything, which was why he was here. None of his so-called 'friends' would see him and even Jeff wouldn't take his calls... not that had tried recently. He figured he could straight to the source and avoid any middlemen. He hadn't expected to run into the biggest one their was.

Which brought up the question where exactly to go from here. Chris obviously wasn't going to let him see Victoria, whether she was in there or out somewhere like he said. He knew a lie wasn't gonna get him anywhere. Anyone who has been in the company back then knew how badly he and Victoria had ended things, so it was completely unreasonable that he would be here to catch up on old times.

Still, the truth was just so... well... she said she was keeping it, but for all he knew, she was just saying that the keep him from leaving. Not that it was going to affect him either way, clearly. He did what he had to do for him and his career and it was unfair of her to try trap him. If she kept it, it was probably somewhere beyond the wall of Jericho in front of him. If she hadn't, it was possible Jericho didn't even know the baby had ever existed. Which wasn't really his fault, now that he thought about it. If they were married, then she should have told him. If this was a problem, it certainly wasn't his to deal with.

"When I left the WWE, Victoria was pregnant with my baby." he paused, waiting for some reaction from Jericho.

Chris closed his eyes, folding his arms over his chest as he felt his fingers curl into fists. He wanted to hit him, he wanted to hit so badly. For all the pain he had caused. For hurting Lita years ago, for hurting Vicky so badly back then, for just... leaving her like he had. For even _*daring*_ to lay claim to _*his*_ little girl, who he probably wasn't even sure existed. He wanted to beat him until he was bloody... but he wouldn't. He would not hit Matt, because he would not risk getting arrested in front of his own house. He would not put Regan at risk just because her asshole sperm donor showed up, and at the very least, the commotion would certainly wake her and Matt wasn't even worth that much.

"So what," he said, opening his eyes, "You think you can just show up three years later and claim them like something you left in a pawn shop?" Jericho said, disgust welling in his every word. "You think you could just show up here like nothing had changed, and Victoria would be waiting for you, baby in tow, ready to take you back? You think you have a right to even know that little girl exists?"

"I have the right–"

"No," Jericho said, cutting him off sharply, "you don't have any rights. You lost them the second you walked out on her." He stepped back inside, still glaring knives. "If you're smart at all, you'll stay the hell away from my wife and * _my_ * daughter."

Then he closed the door.


End file.
